Inocence

Was I a layer?
No, I wasn’t
How could I bear up?
Your hypocrisy when I look at you?
Once I believed in you
I trusted in you
You have broken my dreams
Which were once of both of us
We shared almost the same things
We enjoyed the same things
But these likes were violated
by your disloyalty and tour satiric game

Now, you don’t know how much I hate you
Your fake love is a rapper
that took my purity and confidence for one and forever ever.
My words are raw but real as a tempo

Sometimes

Sometimes alone
Sometimes isolated
His life is completely wasted
No matter how many books he has read
No matter how many churches he has ever been
No matter how many of them have been stolen
The inquisitor is there
Watching him being tortured there in that oven.
The room is dark
There is no light in it
His captors took him to nowhere
To a place most of us fear
I don’t know how I saw that picture
of that man hanging from his shoulders.
He shouted , screamed and then silence,
the last thing he said: I can’t see..
Well his eyes were poke out
Then he said: I see you...wait, wait for me! There, light blinds me...
Then, all there in the cave was silence
But the laugh of the inquisitor who said:
Go on, run and find him
May be it’s your angel at the doors of heaven
(The laugh went on)

Cheating

She met him when she was desperate
Her boyfriend have left her
She was empty
Without someone
Who can make her feel better
She needed someone
She found a man
He has in his thirties
Ten year elder than her
Yet, they had that chemistry
They found wine on flowers
Sun on clouds
Stars on the sky
And blood on their bodies
Passion was there but for a little time

“Baby, I love you”,

“Baby, I love you”,
“You have no idea how much I need you”
All these words...
I got tired of listening to them
And your tongue should have suffered when uttering them
Now, I realized that
All of this was
a simple narration of ideas , once read on a book
They look like a chronological account of historical events
Those of Pigna’s volumes
One day, you told me you wanted to be a priest
You left me without saying any other word.
My mouth was still wide open
When you took your bag and left home
I thought the guilty one here was not you
But God
I have never imagined he could take me away another person I love
Eight years have passed
And I found you
Wondering the streets
“What a surprise, how are you?”
“I‘m fine, darling”. "I’m studying Latin at San Francisco church”
I never dared to ask him what his fortune was
in reference to his religious vows
We went on our respective paths as if nothing happened that night of cold

How much I love you?

How much I need you
I don’t know
Can love be measured?
Who knows...
I want you to tell me
what is going on between us
If there is fire or just a cold
I have many doubts
Many...Believe it or not
You confuse me
with your complicated words
I tried to avoid your presence
So as to be strong
But when I see you
I am more like a dying flower
in the middle of a deserted road.
How long should I bear up your childish games?
You know I am a doll
You treat me like your pet
Why don’t you leave me alone?
I’ll really appreciate
may be in that form
I forget at once and forever and anymore.

Loneliness once again...

Surprised of being alone one day
I found out that i hate to be alone
I have always had someone with me
but these people were mere pedestrians in my heart
they just walk, entered ,
not even stayed for a while and then, they left.
Sometmes, I cried
sometimes I felt that relief
soemtimes I missed
but I have never been in love
this time I will wait for him to come
he swore me that last month.
Lu, I am waiting for you to come.
don't let me alone
not anymore.

my future

I met him in an unexpected situation
thousand of milesare between us
yet, you decided to leave all your things behind.
just to meet me.
you swear me love
you say you love me.
I say the same thing
but, is it true? is this love just real?
or is it just an obsession?
the only thing we know
is that we need each other
why, how and where do not matter at all
the only thing, we must care
is our hearts.

Men

If you are women
And you are reading this
You can hardly deny
Why men are so essential
Men are the motors of our lives
And the most necessary subjects women can find
They are the ones that
Makes our world work
Some say, you think using your ovaries
But iam a woman and really proud to be
Glad that the race of men exists

It’s not a question of feminism vs. male chauvinism
No, it is a question of coexistence
You women what will you be without a little support, friendship or love of a man?
You can work or be successful,
Pretty and smart too but what will you do if no man is around you?
Will you have a baby?
Will you have a father to??
Of course you won’t
You see
They are the ones that our lives move on
Accept it whether you like it or not.

The spider

The spider is hanging from the wall
In my room
Next to me
It’s on the roof
I see it
And I know she can see me
Her many eyes ca affirm this
She stares at me all day when I sleep
I know, I feel it.
She is the witness of my nightmares
And the few broken dreams.
She looks me when I read
My books of history.
May be she likes history as well
Why not
That is why she is always there accompanying me.
Each day that drifts away
I see her bigger and bigger
Black dark and gloomy
Now I see it half its size
Now just a dot
Now I can’t see it anymore
Shhhhhh!!! Stop it! Don’t make any noise
We fall asleep!

The bridge

Clarissa was alone
Alone in this world
No one took her seriously
Not even her family
Not in the way it should.
Clarissa, girl of pale countenance,
You who looked fixedly to the moon
Thousand and thousand times.
You who always challenged the world that surrounded you
One day so decisive you were
You walked a lot
You were marching to the grave
Crying, sighing her bitterness
She decided life was not longer safe
She stopped
At the bridge
Looking the water flow as a tempest
Down down in there
Up the bridge
She was waiting death
She jumped
And walked through the air
The fresh spring wind
Rushed through her breast
Blood ran down the river in that evening
In despair.

My little bird

My little bird
Puts his bill on my check
When I take it and carry it on my shoulders
It does not peck me
But it just touches my ckeeck softly.
I sometimes open its cage
I want it to be free
But she doesn’t want
My bird my little bird
Why o we do the same?
Why do we refuse to enjoy life?
Because the person who is taking care of us
We need her
And a lot
I see her long wings
But she doesn’t use them
They are just there
Useless
We just stay here
Pretending to be happy.

Da Vinci

Few words form out the Word knowledge, as far as human knowledge is known… many terms in reference to intelligence sounds somewhat familiar. But what else can we expect from a genius whose virtues and foils mix in such a way that make defects seem little things?? Leonardo Da Vinci was a handsome, noble and refined man. He liked chatting to people, he was excellent at fencing. Yet, this is Leonardo “the visible one”. The other, the cryptic, the unknown, the melancholic was reflected on his pictures. Now, I wonder how he looked like when lonely. Maybe the scene was frightful and tragic, taking into account the many times he enjoyed the feeling to be on the border, the mad sensation of committing suicide. It is said that he hid many things. Things that were better not to be uttered. These disgusting experiences submerged him into a sea of anguish and solitude.
Being a genius was not his first aim. He wanted his feelings were simply portrayed into eternity.